Meeting in Vikolani, Bret's April Journal #3

This is another installment from Bret, who is in Kenya for a few weeks.  Next week another expedition group will join him, but for now he is introducing Leah to the community and doing all that can be done to prepare her to take over the position of Executive Director of the Koins board in Kenya. 

Technology is blessing we did not have available to us while in Kenya during the early years of Koins.  Now cell phones are commonplace, and the internet is available, although it is still sketchy, as is cell service at times.  So far this trip, I have been able to speak with Bret daily. I am always glad to receive his emails that share the activities of his days while in Kenya.  Hopefully he will be able to share some photos soon.  IVL

_________________________________

Replacing the man who has been the face of Koins for the last decade, one of their own, one with childhood friendships and students that he taught as children now raising families of their own in the area is not an easy task.  Leah has been thrown into the deep end and is swimming like a champ as we travel around the area, meeting educational leaders, law enforcement directors, village elders, and everyone in between.  We have had no shortage of group assemblies, and I’m sure Leah is beginning to feel like a GOP candidate, but these are necessary functions as Koins makes their transition.

The billowy clouds coming from the west, with their soaring columns of ruffled frames, indicate a chance of rain.  The prayers on the ground implore that they find a home directly over us and pummel us with precipitation.  A cool breeze washes in with the late, gray afternoon, bringing relief to me and a bone-chilling 78 degrees to this cold-blooded community.  As I went for my afternoon walk over hill and dale, visiting the many family clusters dotting the dry hillsides, whatever items of clothing are available are placed on their bodies to stay warm.  I walk around with a t-shirt and safari shorts, looking to them like I’m going to a Polar Bear Plunge party.

I crossed the dry bed of the Mnyenzeni River and headed up the opposite side.  I was on unfamiliar paths, but children greeting me by name indicate that I’m still in my area.  The trodden path lead me to an uncharacteristic village, with tidy huts placed in organized rows, and many large stones placed in an orderly fashion for sitting in a variety of places throughout this tiny hamlet.  The children scurried around, afraid of their visitors, but announcing I had arrived.  Soon the village center was crawling with mothers and tiny babies, toddlers, children and the white-haired elderly.  As each exited their hut to come and greet us, they looked upwardly to determine the condition of the skies.  They systematically pulled their kangas around their shoulders to shelter them from the bite of the wind.  Million dollar smiles filled their faces as they greeted the first white man to ever set foot on their soil.  Although the children were dying with curiosity, their fear never allowed them to come any closer than a distant handshake.

A young woman dressed in colorful robes and headdress greeted us.  She knew me from the primary school where she attended until the age of 13.  Her education ended when her test results didn’t permit her into secondary school.  She followed the typical alternative - returning to the village, working the fields, and marrying someone from a neighboring village.  She announced she was 17, as she adjusted the bundle on her back, revealing the frail baby cradled in its wrap.  The infant’s beauty was astounding as she opened her coal black eyes to see who had caused her shuffling.  She was cold and searched to retreat back to the warmth of her mother’s back.  Winter is coming south of the equator, and small children who are already weak are often the victims of a mild cold or flu.  Combined with exposure to malaria and water-born illnesses, I could only feel hopeful that this darling child would someday be one of the children calling to me from afar. 

A stiff wind caused a visible shiver from the baby, so I told her mother to come to the Koins Center in the morning and I would provide her with a thick, warm, cozy blanket.  Since I leave my belongings here, my bags when I travel are always filled with needed supplies, equipment, or other goods.  My cousin Leigh, as well as my sweet niece, Katie, organized a multitude of blankets to be made specifically for this purpose.  We usually reserve the blankets as a small reward to the women who come to the safety of our dispensary to have their babies instead of remaining at home.  However, I couldn’t resist inviting this mother to come and collect a blanket for her baby.  There has never been a smile so wide when she realized I was offering her one of our well-known blankets.  She said that she was so excited that she would not sleep that night, and wanted to come early to the KCC, so I told her as early as she wanted.  I am fully aware that she’ll be there as I exit my bedroom.  I’ll have a blanket for her.

The District Officer in this large area is the top law enforcement official, but responsible for keeping order when dealing with disputes, land issues, community development, and alike.  Our D.O. is one of the few females with this steep position, and having Leah as her counterpart in the community was truly a treat for her ears.  She provided Leah with deep insight and wisdom from someone who came here from afar, a different tribe, and a woman placed in a leadership position in the middle of the Duruma people.  I sat and watched our green executive absorb the words of wisdom from this seasoned veteran.  They will be friends, and the relationship between her office and Koins will surely be strengthened.  The long road Leah will travel with Koins is being paved, thus far, by wonderful people like Madam Gloria, the District Officer.

The brawny clouds remained silent throughout the evening, without spilling a drop on our beckoning fields.  The churning of soil by hoe, oxen tillers, and the Koins tractor is the order of the day around here as everyone prepares for the rains.  It will be soon when the seeds will be going into the ground, and that’s when every single prayer from each individual mouth will be directed upwards pleading to heaven for their vital rains.

Mmmmm good, brown beans and rice for dinner.  A lukewarm glass of water as a chaser, and I’m off to the showers to scrub off anything that has attached itself to me during the day.

………………………..

With the assistance of a small, white Ambien pill, I finally enjoyed a full night’s rest.  The crowing roosters, gurgling he-goats, or noise of the village interrupted my slumber.  I am officially on Kenyan time.

Much of our objective for this expedition is to prepare for our summer activities.  Today we met with the village of Vikolani (vee-co-lawn-ee).  Yama, Buffalo, Tuku, me, and Edison (our agriculture specialist) made the trip on foot as a vehicle cannot reach there.  Leah came with us to be introduced and take part in the planning process we have specifically for this village.  We thought we were meeting with a few village elders and representatives from the women’s group.  Upon our arrival at the Koins-constructed primary school, a couple of hundred villagers had gathered to greet us and make us feel welcome.  With colorful dress, clapping hands, and songs of gratitude, we were seated under the sprawling branches of a Neem tree, one that has provided shade for weary travelers for over a century.

Our plan is to have a youth group come and live within the community.  They will build a hut similar to those where the villagers live.  A garden is being planted now that will provide harvest of native plants upon our group’s arrival, and our kids will rotate the garden and replant the soil.  They will serve this community and live amongst them, herding goats, fetching water, planting vegetables, and preparing traditional meals – side by side with the people from Vikolani.  We needed property where two huts could be erected.  It was happily given to us.  We need them to dig a pit where a latrine can be constructed.  We were promised a pit 15 feet deep since we will construct it near the school so the children will finally have a place to go.  Up until now……..well, let’s just say you had to watch where you were walking.  Land for a garden that would be dedicated for our use had to be donated.  No sooner was the request made that it was granted, and the location of the garden is in the center of the most fertile land in the village area, plush with coconut trees and green grasses.  These grateful people have been served by Koins, and whatever we needed to achieve our goals was given.  The fortunate young adults who will join our expedition in July will forever have Vikolani in their hearts, with memories that will last a lifetime.

We arranged for Leah to sponsor a lunch for all of the Koins staff, meeting each of them formally and addressing them as a group.  There is no question that she will earn their respect, and they will give it freely as she works at their side.  The laundry list of things to do seems endless, but the foundation stands firmly, ready for Leah’s blocks to be placed.  Her abilities will only improve our work to this point, making our humble organization even better than it is, and this community is getting excited about it as they see Yama standing so firmly behind her and cheering her on.  I asked the women’s group in Vikolani if they were happy about seeing a woman take over.  It was if I had announced the winning lottery ticket number and their group was the owner. 

Although I know the villagers love me, when I go for a run the children laugh out loud.  They’ve never seen me run, as I never have before over here.  Some of the younger kids will actually run with me, occasionally uttering jokes in Duruma, sending everyone that is with us into fits of laughter.  These are Kenyans, and they know how to run.  However, the men near my age group have quite a different reaction, and although they wonder why I’m working so hard, they encourage me.  Here is today’s conversation that I found so funny:

Villager – “Baba Bret, you are running?”
Me – Ndio (yes)
Villager – “Are you in a hurry to get somewhere?”
Me – Apana (not really)
Villager – “Then why do you run?”
Me – (Blank look and a shrug of the shoulders)
Villager – “Baba Bret, walk and enjoy the day.”

I felt like taking their sage advice, but since my bride is back home killing my times at altitude, if I don’t run here I’ll never be able to catch her.

Night falls like a thick blanket here.  It’s quick, and becomes dark in just a few minutes time.  There are no light poles that kick on to illuminate your way, or solar walkway lights that provide some sort of direction.  It goes black, and you had better have excellent vision in the dark or a flashlight, because there are no options.  Tonight the frogs have started singing.  Why now?  There were no rains today.  I guess another Ambien is going to be required.

BVL